Timmy's new job
by FabulousandDevious
Summary: Timmy gets an unlikely job, from an unlikely employer, and an unlikely romance blooms! Please review!:3
1. Chapter 1

Timmy Turner walked down the street with his head hung low and sighed deeply.

He had been rejected by Trixie yet again. He despondently wondered if he should even bother trying anymore. No matter what crazy scheme he used to try and win her affection, it never worked. For all she cared, he was just a fly buzzing around her.

Timmy then wondered if she was even worth it. She was such a stuck up, pompous, rich girl. All she really had was her looks, and nothing else. He tried to imagine what he saw in her when he was in middle school, but found nothing.

He stopped walking and continued to think.

Had he been pining after her all these years simply because he hadn't looked at anyone else? Well, he decided that then and there that he was officially done.

He had been trying to get her for five years, and he was sick of waiting. He was fifteen years old now, and he had wasted so much time on Trixie that he hadn't gotten to know any other girls. Except for Tootie, but even she had a boyfriend.

Timmy suddenly realized that it was practically impossible for him to get a girlfriend.

Up until now, he hadn't thought of making female friends. He was too focused on Trixie.

Timmy figured he would just give up on girls altogether. They were too confusing anyway.

Pleased with his decision, he began walking again.

Then he suddenly stopped as a thought came to him.

_ What do I do now?_

He had spent most of his free time coming up with ideas to woo Trixie up until this point. He didn't have any friends to hang out with. At the end of middle school Chester had moved away and A.J had gone to a private school.

He'd even had to say goodbye to Cosmo and Wanda, because his parents decided he was too old for a babysitter.

Still, he was glad Jorgan had allowed him to keep his memories of his godparents. Sometimes it was good to reminisce on those old times.

But there was still the question of what he was going to do now that romancing Trixie was out of the question. Maybe he could join a club? But then again, nobody would probably want him. Or he could do some extra credit for school. But he wasn't really smart enough for that.

Then a realization hit him.

_I should get a job._

It was perfect, it would both occupy his time and earn him some cash to fuel his video game habit. He smiled at the brilliance of his own idea.

Feeling invigorated, he ran the rest of the way home and scooped up the newspaper that was sitting on the front step. He opened the door of his house and sat on his living room couch.

He scanned the paper for the wanted section and pulled it out, tossing the rest away.

His eyes roamed over the ads and tried to find something good.

An intern? no. A busboy? no. A test subject? Definitely not.

Then his eyes fell on a certain ad that intrigued him.

_ I need someone to clean my apartment every other day of the week. Will pay 100 dollars for every cleaning. Better do a good job. _

Cleaning, huh? He certainly had experience in that field. Vicky had made him clean the house almost every time she babysat. But who in the world lived in such squalor that they needed their apartment cleaned every other day?

Oh, well. He decided that it was a good a job as any. And the 100 bucks didn't sound too bad either.

He grabbed his jacket and walked out of the house with the paper in hand, heading out to find the address indicated on it.


	2. Chapter 2

Timmy walked through the streets of dimsdale while continuously glancing at the little paper clutched in his hand. He carefully counted the numbers on the buildings as he looked for the right one.

With the exception of the numbers, they all looked exactly the same. They all had red bricks and black doors. Timmy adjusted his pink hat.

His eyes finally landed on the right building and he double checked the paper just to make sure. He walked up the steps and went through the door.

Timmy found himself in a small lobby, with black and white tiles and several potted plants in the corners. He glanced around and he saw a front desk with a very old man sleeping behind it. Timmy assumed he was the doorman.

Timmy located the elevator and walked over to it.

Out of order.

Of course.

Timmy groaned and dragged his feet over to the stairs. As he looked up he felt a shudder go through his spine. There had to be at _least _thirty floors ahead of him.

He looked at the paper.

His destination was on floor twenty-nine.

He groaned once again and began the long trek up the unforgiving stairs.

Timmy was barely able to breathe once he finally made his way onto floor twenty-nine.

Taking a good few minutes to regain his footing, he took his hat off and wiped the sweat off his brow.

He hated to imagine that he would have to climb those stairs every other day. He hoped that they would fix the elevator soon.

Replacing the hat on his head, he set off down the hallway to find the right apartment.

He once again counted the numbers as he passed door after door. He finally found the right one at the end of the hall, number six hundred and sixty-six.

Timmy wondered if that was a bad omen.

Deciding to dismiss it, he walked over to the door and prepared to knock, but before he could a massive shiver went through him and he took a step back. It was almost as if the room was giving off waves of foreboding negativity.

Timmy felt a bead of sweat roll down his neck.

He steeled himself and knocked three times.

At first he heard nothing. He figured that he hadn't been loud enough and raised his hand to knock again.

But then he heard it. A feral growl.

It was a sound so terrifying that it could make grown men cower. A sound so deadly it could kill small animals. A sound that contained enough hatred to defeat an army.

It was a sound that made children cry.

And Timmy knew exactly what was making it. A horrible beast that still haunted his nightmares.

He could only stand frozen in place as the beast stomped it's way to the other side of the door.

His eyes widened as he heard the bolt slide back.

Timmy desperately willed himself to move, but he had lost almost all bodily functions. He could only stand and wait for the door to open.

The apartment door creaked open and Timmy nearly fainted when the beast came into view. It's mouth opened and it bellowed with a mighty roar.

"WHAT THE HELL DO YOU WANT?!"

It was her.

_Vicky. _

Timmy stood there shaking as Vicky stood in the doorway with her fists on her hips. She noticeably recognized him as one of her eyebrows raised and her mouth curved into a scowl.

"Twerp? What the hell are you doing here?" she said looking him up and down.

Timmy was scared out of his mind, and quickly imagined turning tail and running all the way home without looking back.

But he stopped himself. He had come all this way, hadn't he? Sure, he hadn't been expecting the bane of his childhood, but he was ready to start a new era of his life. One where he forgot the past and focused on the future.

Should he really let one of his biggest fears as a kid stop him?

And even if he was put through horrible torture, at least he could just leave this time. That had not been one of the luxuries he had when he was a kid.

He looked at Vicky as she impatiently tapped her foot, waiting for an answer.

He took a deep breath and tried to calm his nerves. Trying to keep eye contact, he looked at Vicky and held up the paper for her to see.

"I'm here for the Job you posted." he said managing to keep the tremor out of his voice. She narrowed her eyes at him and leaned forward threateningly.

"And what makes you think I'll give you the job, Twerp?" she snarled.

He paled and nervously clenched his hands.

"U-um... you know that I have experience in this field?" he offered, shrugging nervously. She pondered this for a moment. Seeming to accept his answer, her dangerous aura receded and she leaned away from him. The scowl, however, did not leave her face.

"I guess you have a point, twerp. Alright, get inside." she said as she stepped out of the doorway and walked into the apartment without looking back.

Timmy stood there for a moment and then followed her inside.

He was blown away by what met his eyes when he entered her apartment.

It was, quite simply put, utter chaos.

In the living room, there were clothes strewn all across the floor. Some looked fresh, and some looked like they hadn't been washed in decades. All the cushions had been pulled off the couches and chairs, and had various stains all over them. The walls were covered in writing and other markings. It also looked like the trashcan had been spilled over and not cleaned up.

Peeking into the kitchen, the situation was not much better. There were countless dirty dishes piled up in the sink. Many more were on the table. The fridge had been open and not closed, leaving most of the food inside either moldy or rotted. There was a large rat sitting in a basket of fruit. Dozens of filled garbage bags sat next to the sink. And finally, the stove hadn't been washed since it was bought.

Timmy looked at Vicky with his jaw hanging open. How in the world did she manage to live in this filth? It was disgusting.

Vicky surveyed the mess with bored eyes and turned back to Timmy.

"Alright, twerp. I guess you can get started. And remember, you'd better clean it well or I might not be as kind and helpful as I am now." she said while staring him down. She turned away but remembered something and turned back, giving Timmy a bloodcurdling smile. "And don't ever, under any circumstances, go into my room unless you want to die a slow, painful death. Got it?"

Timmy felt his blood drain and he nodded quickly to show he understood. Vicky walked into her room and shut the door without giving him a second glance.

He suddenly released the breath he hadn't known he was holding.

Looking around him, he took it all in and sighed as he imagined how long it would take to finish.

Still, he had a job to do, so he rolled up his sleeves and got to work.

Timmy scrubbed the last marking off the wall and surveyed his handiwork.

He had really outdone himself this time. After cleaning all the dishes and putting them in their respective places, he had thrown away all the garbage and old food. After that, he had scrubbed down all the tables and counter tops, mopped the floors, and washed the windows.

Moving into the living room, he had washed all of her clothes and couch cushions and put them back where they belonged. Once again he threw out all the trash. He had wrapped up the whole ordeal by thoroughly washing the walls.

Though it had been tiring, it felt pretty rewarding to have completed such a big job. It really wasn't so bad as long as Vicky wasn't ordering you to work faster.

_Speaking of which, where is Vicky?_ Timmy thought as he turned towards Vicky's room. To his shock, she was standing right behind him.

He gave a small yelp as he stepped backwards and felt his back hit the wall. Vicky's hand stretched out towards Timmy as his eyes widened and he realized he had no where to run. He shut his eyes and braced himself for whatever was coming.

But, nothing happened.

He curiously opened one eye and saw that Vicky was holding something in her outstretched hand. He realized that it was something for him and he carefully took it from her.

To his surprise, it was a wad of folded bills.

Vicky retracted her hand and turned away, walking over to the front door.

"There's your payment, twerp. Consider it generous for the crappy job you did cleaning up my place. You'd better do a good job next time or I might break your spine." she said opening the door. Timmy said nothing and slowly made his way out the door. He almost expected her to slam the door as soon as he stepped out, but she surprised him again by gently shutting the door.

As he walked through the hallway he wondered as to what exactly happened back there.

Had Vicky been acting... nice?

Well, nice for Vicky was a different nice than for others, but she had certainly been more toned down than he remembered. Did this mean she didn't see him as a kid anymore, did she maybe see him as a peer?

He began to smile as he walked down the stairs.

This job was certainly more interesting than he had anticipated. He wasn't exactly pleased that Vicky was his boss, but if she was going to act like this all the time, than it was bearable.

And if he didn't know any better, he might say that he was looking forward to his next cleaning.


	3. Chapter 3

Those stairs were going to be the death of him.

He had been gone for two days, and they still hadn't fixed the elevator. He considered filing a complaint to the comatose old doorman.

Oh well, it was probably the only exercise he really got.

As Timmy turner got off at floor twenty-nine, he felt his spine tingle in anticipation for what was to come.

He had spent the whole day yesterday wondering if everything Vicky had done was a cruel joke. Maybe the next time he went into her apartment she would resort back to her cruel self and torture him.

Timmy had wondered if he should stay home.

But then again, what if things really were different? And what might come of him working next to the sleeping bear known as Vicky?

Timmy had no idea what would happen, and the danger strangely excited him.

And now he was in front of her door again. Ready for whatever lay ahead.

Timmy had certainly _not_ been expecting what lay ahead of him.

He had knocked on her door in much the same routine. He heard the same growl from the first visit. Vicky had answered with a toothbrush in her mouth and let him in, still having that familiar scowl on her face.

Everything seemed normal.

But when he entered her apartment, what he saw shook him to the very bone.

All his hard work during the last cleaning had been completely erased.

All the clothes were back on the floor, all the dirty dishes were piled in the sink, and there was garbage everywhere.

And if anything, it looked _worse_.

Timmy, slack-jawed, stared at Vicky, trying to understand how one girl could make such a mess in only _one_ day. She simply folded her arms and surveyed the carnage she had created. She looked down at him and smiled with... _sympathy? _

Was she actually sympathetic that he had to clean up this dump? And Timmy noticed that her scowl was gone, and her gaze had softened.

Wow... without that mean look on her face she looked kind of... _pretty_.

"Guess you should get to work, twerp."

And just like that, the moment was ruined with her annoying nickname for him. Timmy sighed as he wondered why he had thought she was being sympathetic. She was pretty much the same old Vicky, and it was silly for him to think she was going to magically turn nice.

Vicky sauntered over to her bedroom and addressed him before she closed the door.

"And stay out of my room!" she said before closing the door.

Huh, no 'twerp' to finish her sentence? Maybe she was gradually turning nice after all.

But still, it would be a lot nicer if she tried to keep her apartment in order.

He figured there was a limit to how nice Vicky could be and decided to get started.

Halfway through the cleaning, Timmy noticed out of the corner of his eye that Vicky's bedroom door was opened a bit. He could see that Vicky was watching him and surveying his work.

He was going to call her out and say that he was definitely working his hardest, but decided against it. He didn't want to make her angry.

He chose instead to pretend he didn't see and kept working.

As he was washing dishes, Timmy heard Vicky's door creak open and Vicky come out. Curious, he peaked into the living room to see her sitting on the couch, watching TV.

This was odd. He had figured that she wouldn't come out of her room like last time. He carefully observed her as she sat there.

She was wearing black pants and a green shirt, just like she did when he was a kid. Timmy assumed that certain things just never changed. After all, he was still wearing his pink hat.

In appearance, however, Vicky had definitely changed. When she was sixteen she had looked like many sixteen year olds, awkward and lanky. Timmy had used to think that she was the ugliest creature on the planet.

But now, he wasn't so sure.

She was no longer as skinny as he remembered. She had filled out and had a lot more curves. Her hair, which used to be dry and straw-like, was now shiny and voluptuous, though still tied back in her classic ponytail.

Her once zit covered skin was smooth and delicate, like a porcelain doll's.

And to top it all off, her face used to be gaunt and scary, but was now more calm and beautiful.

Beautiful... that was not a word that Timmy had thought would ever describe Vicky.

But the proof was right before his eyes.

Suddenly, she looked over at him and his eyes widened. He quickly ran into the kitchen, expecting Vicky to come any second and demand to know why he had been staring at her.

But, she did not come.

Timmy hoped that she either hadn't seen him or dismissed it. Either one was fine with him.

He went back to washing dishes, but froze when he heard a noise come from the living room. It was faint, and very soft.

It sounded like... giggling.

It couldn't be coming from... Vicky, could it?

No, that was certainly impossible. Timmy had her cackle menacingly, chuckle maniacally, and laugh evilly.

But giggling cutely? That was just ridiculous. She might have gotten prettier, and nicer, but the day Vicky giggled like a schoolgirl Timmy would spread his arms and fly to the moon.

Deciding that he was simply hearing things, Timmy went back to washing dishes.

As Timmy finished the job, Vicky once again came over to him with his payment in hand. He took the money and headed over to the door. Vicky began to walk back to her room without saying a single word to him.

But before he left he stopped himself.

Were they really going to do this every single time? Were they just going to continue without ever acknowledging the other?

Timmy thought that they should at least learn to make small talk while they were in such close proximity. It might even make his job less grueling.

He turned around and looked at Vicky. He took the initiative and asked her a question.

"Hey Vicky, how do you make this kind of money anyways?"

Seemingly surprised by his question, she didn't say anything for a moment. When the answer came to her, her familiar frown returned.

"I run a daycare center. Now get out, I have work to do." she said as she pushed him out the door and closed it behind him.

Timmy smiled at the closed door. A daycare, huh? He should have known that Vicky wouldn't abandon her favorite hobby of torturing children. She was even still making a profit off it.

Timmy walked off down the hall, ready to make a complaint to the doorman about the elevator.


	4. Chapter 4

As the weeks progressed, Timmy began to notice changes in both Vicky and himself.

At first Vicky had mostly stayed out of his way. If he was cleaning in the living room, she would stay in the kitchen. If he went to clean the kitchen, she would go into the living room.

But gradually, she began to stay closer to him. She might eat a sandwich on the kitchen while he was cleaning dishes, or play video games while he vacuumed the carpet.

They even began to speak to each other.

At first it was only on occasion. Timmy would ask her to lift her feet so he could vacuum, or she would tell him he missed a spot, and so-on.

But gradually they began to have full conversations.

Vicky often told him about all the kids she tortured, often in creative ways. Timmy was somewhat put-off by her colorful descriptions, but had to admit that it was pretty interesting that she was so passionate about it. It was even kind of funny to hear about some of the tortures she created for the kids she hated the most. He even laughed sometimes.

Whenever she made him laugh, her face would brighten and she would smile. But she always caught herself and would quickly go back to frowning or scowling. Timmy found it amusing how she tried to stay grumpy and vicious all the time.

Timmy would tell her about all his eccentric teachers and hardships of living with two idiots for parents. He felt sort of bad for unloading all of his frustrations and complaints on Vicky, but she seemed strangely understanding and actually listened. That was more than could be said for his parents, who hardly ever gave him a second glance. He was grateful to Vicky for letting him let go of his woes, simple though they may have been.

Timmy noticed another thing that changed about Vicky; her apparel.

When he had just started his job, Vicky had worn her black pants and long sleeve green shirt. As time went on, her attire became more and more revealing.

She became more comfortable with Timmy in the house, and she didn't seem to care what he saw her in. At times she wore very low-cut shorts. Other times she wore shirts that left not much to the imagination.

She had even answered the door in nothing but black panties and a t-shirt at one point.

_That_ had been pretty shocking, to say the least.

She didn't conserve herself, either. If anything, she seemed to flaunt herself in front of him. If he didn't know any better, he would think that she was looking for his approval in the way she dressed.

The only thing about Vicky that was having trouble changing was her attitude.

Now, Timmy knew that Vicky was naturally not a nice person. She loved others misery, reveled when people got hurt, and celebrated the bearing of bad news. He new that was never going to change.

But still, he couldn't help but feel that he was the closest thing to a real friend that Vicky had. He doubted that any of the children in the daycare liked to be around her. He also doubted that she was friendly with her neighbors.

So couldn't she just be a little bit more gentle around him?

At times it seemed that she was really warming up to him. She'd smile at him, or generally seem happy. But she always seemed to stop herself, scowl, and say something mean before walking away. It was like she was trying to remind herself to not be too nice to him. This frustrated him.

He certainly wouldn't mind being her friend. He had none of his own, and she was definitely not as bad as he had once thought. Yet she always kept them on the verge of being friends and not being friends.

Something always seemed to hold her back.

It often surprised Timmy at how dedicated he was to becoming closer to Vicky. If his ten year old self could see him now he would probably begin foaming at the mouth and faint.

Timmy noticed other changes in himself as well. Sometimes subtle changes, sometimes big changes.

For one, he began to worry about his appearance before he went into Vicky's apartment. He would nervously comb his hair, or adjust his hat, or other things like that.

He also noticed that he was constantly trying to impress Vicky. He might try to seem more mature in conversations, and would often try to make her laugh. If he succeeded he would feel monumentally proud of himself.

Timmy also noticed that he almost _enjoyed_ the mess she made while he was away. It gave him a reason to come back.

But then again, was the mess the reason he kept coming back? It certainly wasn't the money, because by now he had plenty of _that_.

So what was it? Was it loyalty? Friendship?

Or...was it something more?

Timmy simply decided to stop thinking about it. It was easier to figure that he needed a job and that Vicky was a good employer as any.

So he buried his feelings and continued working.

It had been four weeks since Timmy had taken the job of cleaning Vicky's apartment, and during that time everything had been fine.

But as Timmy neared her apartment door, he felt like something was off. He couldn't quite put his finger on it, but something was definitely wrong.

When he got to her door, he did his usual three knock greeting. Normally, it took about ten seconds for Vicky to stop whatever she was doing and answer the door.

But she didn't come. He didn't even hear anything stir behind the door.

Growing nervous, he knocked again. Still nothing.

What was going on? He was certain that she wasn't working at this time, was she out doing errands? And if so, why was she doing them now?

Trying the door, he surprisingly found it unlocked. He wondered if maybe he should just leave and come back tomorrow. Perhaps she simply didn't want to be disturbed.

But then again, what if she was injured and couldn't call out to him?

Deciding to be brave and go inside, he opened the door.

Now he new that something was_ really_ wrong.

The apartment was spotless. Completely undisturbed from his last cleaning. That was not good.

Had something happened to Vicky? He began to panic when he suddenly heard a noise from behind her bedroom door. It had sounded like glass breaking.

Running over to the door, he hesitated. It was the one room in the apartment he was forbidden from entering, and what might happen if he broke her rule?

Well, if Vicky was in trouble, he supposed he could bear her punishment after he helped her.

He opened it and ran inside, almost having his head taken off by a flying bottle.

Luckily he managed to duck in time and the bottle broke on the wall behind him. Shocked, he turned towards the bed, where Vicky was laughing and jumping up and down.

Her face was bright red and she was surrounded by bear bottles, as she guffawed in a slurred voice. Her shirt was covered in beer stains, and her hair was untied and askew. Timmy carefully got up and walked over to her.

"um, Vicky? Are you alright?" he said gently to her. She snapped her head to look at him, seemingly noticing him just then. She broke out in a goofy grin.

"Timmy! Hey! How cum yur zo short?" she asked while laughing again and taking a sip of beer.

Timmy ignored her question and asked his own.

"Vicky, just how much have you had to drink?"

She looked at the bottle in her hand and pondered his question.

"I dunno, maybe like onety seven?" she as she tried counting on her fingers.

"Vicky, I think we should get you into bed."

She got a pouting look on her face and stomped her foot

"But I don wanna go ta bed!" she argued like a stubborn child. Timmy ignored her and started dragging her over to her bed, brushing off the bottles. At first she struggled, but eventually just let Timmy put her on the bed.

"There, now aren't you more comfortable?" he said.

Vicky didn't say anything, but began to slowly cry. Timmy got scared and desperately wiped the tears from her face.

"Vicky? What's wrong? Why are you crying?"

She looked at him with watery eyes.

"Yur zo nice to me Timmy... how cum yur so nice ta me aftur all that awful stuff I did to yoo az a kid?" she said sobbing. "Don't yoo hate me?"

Timmy soothingly combed her hair through his fingers.

"No Vicky, I don't hate you"

"Yez you doo." she said bitterly. " Ereebody hatez me, cause I'm ugly, an stupid, an mean!"

"Vicky, I don't think you're any of those things. And I forgive you for being mean to me when I was a kid."

She stopped crying and stared at him.

"Yoo really meen it? You don think im terribil?" she grabbed his hand and squeezed it.

"Yes, I really mean it." he said giving her a smile.

Vicky seemed relieved to hear this and she collapsed on her pillow with a drunken grin on her face. Timmy got up to leave, but before he could Vicky's hand shot out and grabbed his.

He turned around to see she had a blush on her face.

"Zo... iff you don't hate me, then yoo like me, right?" she said.

A similar blush appeared on Timmy's face. He struggled to find the right words.

"U-umm..."

"Cause I really, really. _Really_, like yoo." she interrupted, nervously looking away and rubbing his hand with her thumb. "A lot."

Timmy stuttered as his blush deepened.

"W-well, I really like you too, Vicky."

This did not seem good enough for her.

"No, but wha I mean iz, do you luv me?"

Timmy gulped and considered lying to her. But he didn't want to hurt her feelings, and he figured that he should just be honest with himself. All he could hope for was that she would forget this whole ordeal when she woke up tomorrow morning.

"Yes, I do."

Her eyes widened and she gave out a squeal of delight before releasing his hand. She wiggled on the bed gleefully and Timmy carefully pulled the covers over her.

"Alright, Vicky, you should probably go to sleep now."

She looked at him with adoring eyes as he turned off the light.

"Gud night, Timmy." she said as she drifted off to sleep. He looked at her peaceful form for a bit before leaving her bedroom.

He walked out of her apartment and stood with his hand on the doorknob.

"Goodnight, Vicky." he said as he shut the door.


	5. Chapter 5

Timmy stood nervously in front of Vicky's door.

He blushed bright red as he remembered when Vicky, two nights ago, got him to to confess his feelings for her. Still, she had been raving drunk at the time, and had perhaps forgotten.

But then again, what if she remembered? What would she do to him?

He guessed that he would have to find out.

He raised a quivering hand to knock on the door three times. Faster than usual, he heard Vicky coming to the door. He felt his breath hitch when it opened.

Vicky stood there with a serene look on her face. Timmy didn't see any anger in her, so he let his guard down a bit. She displayed no signs of embarrassment or annoyance towards him, so then maybe she didn't remember her drunken moment after all?

To his surprise, she smiled at him. Not a smirk, or a grin, a genuine smile. Her eyes seemed playful and she looked at him with what looked like... affection.

"Hello, Timmy. Won't you come inside?" she said happily.

Now _that_ was new.

In almost his entire life, Vicky had actually said his name only several times. Most of the time it was "twerp" or, "stupid".

Now Timmy was wary of her. He carefully made his way around her and into the apartment. To his immediate relief, it was a total mess again. At least_ that_ was back to normal.

But Vicky certainly wasn't. As soon as he got started she had sat down on the couch and watched him. Timmy tried to ignore her eyes on him, but found it extremely distracting. She seemed to be observing his every movement.

He stole a glance at her, and she still had that devious smile on her face.

Feeling the sweat pour down his neck, he desperately tried to keep the blush off his face.

He felt himself tense when she called out to him.

"Hey, Timmy." she said quietly.

He nervously looked over at her. She patted the spot next to her on the couch and carefully licked her lips.

"Come sit next to me."

Timmy's eyes widened.

"T-that's alright. I'll stand." he stammered.

Her eyes flashed dangerously and her mouth curled into a sneer.

"I said, come sit next to me, _twerp_."

He didn't need to be told twice. He quickly plopped down on the couch and the angry look melted off her face.

He sat there with his hands awkwardly placed on his lap as Vicky smiled again. He felt himself break out in goosebumps as she let two of her fingers dance up his arm. She absentmindedly traced a circle on his left shoulder.

"So, Timmy. We had a pretty interesting conversation a few nights ago." she purred in his ear.

So she_ did_ remember. Though he had no idea what that meant in regards to what she was doing now. His skin tingled as she continued stroking him.

"Y-yeah. I guess we did." he said as his blush darkened when she began stroking his face.

She moved her face closer to his and he felt her warm breath on his cheek.

"I seem to remember you telling me something very interesting."

Timmy began to panic and tried to move away, but she caught his face and held it closer to hers. She batted her eyelashes and Timmy felt them tickle his skin.

"And let me tell you, I was very glad to hear you say it." she cooed sensually in his ear.

Wait, she was happy to hear him confess? Then did that mean...

"Cause if you didn't feel that way about me, I might feel kind of guilty for doing _this_." she said as her lips enclosed over his.

Immediately a warmth spread through Timmy's body and his eyes snapped open. At first he did nothing and sat in shock as Vicky kissed him. Gradually he got into it and began kissing back.

He experimentally thread his fingers through her red hair. She gave a moan of approval and began doing the same to him.

They stayed like that for a few seconds, when Timmy suddenly came to his senses and broke the kiss.

"Vicky, wait. We shouldn't be doing this."

He expected her to get angry, but instead she tried to grab him and kiss him again.

"I don't care, twerp."

He jumped off the couch and started backing away.

"Come on, Vicky. This is wrong. You're six years older than me!"

Seeing him trying to get away, she gave him a cat-like grin and started chasing him. She tackled him to the floor and teasingly pressed her body against his.

"I said I don't care, twerp. I've decided that I want you. And what I want, I_ get_." she said planting kisses on his neck and face.

He was certainly enjoying the treatment, but a small voice in his head still told them that everything about the situation was wrong.

"Why would you even want me?" he said trying to reason with her.

She halted her affections and gave a little shrug.

"Cause you're cute. And fun to tease. And you're the only person who's actually nice to me."

Timmy was surprised. All this time, she actually appreciated his kindness?

"To tell you the truth, I only waited to kiss you until now cause I figured you were being nice to me out of pity. But when you told me that you liked me, I had no trouble going through with this." she said as she kissed his mouth again.

The little voice spoke up again, but Timmy just ignored it. Instead of listening to it he gave in and began kissing Vicky.

They stayed on the floor for a few blissful minutes, fervently kissing and rubbing against each other.

Finally Vicky sat up and took a deep breath as they both looked at each other, panting heavily. They both got to their feet before coming to a silent decision to move the party to the couch. There they cuddled and sat quietly as they both came to terms with what had just transpired.

"So... do this mean that we're a couple now?"

"Yep."

"Do I still have to clean your apartment?"

"I wouldn't worry about it. I think I'll be a little bit too busy kissing you to make a mess of the place."

Timmy chuckled and nodded.

"Should I tell my parents about us?"

"I would wait until you're eighteen, twerp."

Timmy smiled teasingly at her and raised an eyebrow.

"Are you planning to stay with me until I'm eighteen?"

She blushed but got an angry look on her face.

"Well I sure as hell ain't giving you to someone else, twerp. Now shut up and cuddle with me."

Timmy happily obliged and nestled into Vicky's arm as they sat on the couch and stayed like that for the next few hours.

In the weeks afterward, Timmy couldn't help but thank god that he had found Vicky's ad in the paper.


End file.
